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1. Make 'Em Say (2010)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield
(ooooooo)
Make 'em say
(Wattson steady) I make the ladies say
​
I got 'em stumbling like Macy Gray
They choked and saltier than a Wavy Lay
I up and send your yes-men on a paper chase
you need a f#%*n breath mint to chase the stank away
you pass the Tanqueray
I make my bank by day, and by night
I'm fly like kites
YIKES, don't know if I have what it takes to get five mics
You used to rhymers messing round with no rhythm
they fill your mind with junk and feeling the funk is no given
I'm making no living, doing this pro rata
so I could theoretically go steady like "no comma"
sick of these bitches tripping my spitting is intricately
fit into the kick and snare and hi hat
Relax, WHEW DUDE you looking pale lie back
Opponents fall on scene one ain't messing with five acts
blessing the live tracks mad daps to Sac Lunch
Pause so you can feel the hook,
now all at once like
(oooooo)
I make the ladies say, Wattson steady make the ladies say
I make the people say...
​
Hot to death we playing keep away... TSSS
potatoes crisping to a deeper beige
try to keep from tangling your speaker cables
don't be mad you spilled at least you keeping plates full
peep the fable,
I guess my goal is to get with a label
get phat checks smoking and ghost-writing for J-Lo
cuffing the black sweats with Puff in the black 'Vette
get so where I gotta keep heat tucked in teh mattress
Psh, nah I ain't fucking with that stress
I stay too broke to have stuff that attracts theft
See? I'm back stepping to reality now
cuz this rap game's sho beaten my salary down
Dog, my flows to ravenous to calorie count
and I know it'd be shocked, it eats a stagg'ring amount
now I go out, and all these people flagging me down
gatherings of screaming fans going mad at the sounds, like
​
(ooooo)
I make the people say, Wattson steady make the people say
Wattson even make the FELLAS say... (hah)
​
This cat is dope but acting hella vein
I'm air tight you walking round wrapped in cellophane
keep conversating naming names you gonna get black-listed
cuz though you talking smack man nobody's that gifted
I'm on the track sprinting
Cuz I gotta train messing with tacticians
takes a lotta brains embarking on paper stack missions
no wonder this cat's bitching going for broke SUCKS
and when you find you're past your prime and getting no luck
HOLD UP YOUR ARMS and swing it giving no F&)#
this party's live its no time for getting choked up
Hoes up, bros up, straight flipping the flow rough
and if you feeling this give me a SHO NUFF! (SHO NUFF)
Hold up, I got this sewn up a cold flush,
Cuz I'm rapping with these cats who adapt with a rose blush
the heat of the moment straight hyping the crowd
cats be jumping taking flight from the ground liking the sound
LIke,
(oooo)
I make the people say
2. Affirmative (2020)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield
Chorus x 4
Yes, Yeah, I guess... Affirmative!
Got my seat up at the table
But i’m always second guessin’ if my seat had a label
So I speak when I’m able
Do I question the lesson plan or keep spitting fables
Head peaked at the gable
Too big for my britches i’m conspicuous i don’t fit
In many packages that’s all size, won’t get
Caught both fists full of small fries broke wrists
Stuntin like a fall guy when the dough hit
Direct to the bank stacking I’m growing sums
Feeling shaky on the pulpit
Hoping that all of the pupils can see what I’m showing ‘em
Scope wide like I’m blowing up
But the best thrust comes when you focus the aperture
So that capsule’s still going up
acting like I know what’s up, yeah I’m a rapper sure
​
Chorus x 4
​
Cut the beat and ride the vibe yo
Ain’t no eenie meenie miney
Come and see me when you find me
I’m in the clearing in the high trees
Smiling cat crouching on bad knees
Dragon up in hiding
Not like Khaleesi in the pyramid
I spit a mean game sure but I’m never mean spirited
I know i’ve done it cuz you’re hearing it
I also know i’m done arbitrarily keeping up appearances
Ghost ya
Hit ‘em with the groove change post up
Watch ‘em move different bodies doin’ what it’s sposed ta
Hti the booth gripping roots pulled up from the long climb
Out of holes kicking moles reaching from the bottom line
Bottom line, I’m speaking for myself often
also ignoring when my body yells caution
Acclimating to the energy expelled plotting
I”m heatin up the oven so i get this bread poppin’
Got a let it cool drool while the smells wafting
Easier to spread butter when its shelf softened
Oops drop it watch it land butter side down
Thick Make the floor slick enough to slide round
Hard sell Playing Catch up in Chi-town
So i am tryna earn respect when I rhyme now
Am I a nice guy? Do I have a nice sound?
Can you take a minute to go peep me on my soundcloud?
YES
3. Work/Life (2012)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield
Chorus:
I always say I’m working to live,
but then my life has been work
I’m wondering if it’s a curse or a gift
when I’m working I’ll admit to the perks
but It’s hard to put in time
to the rhyme that I spit
sure I’m paying the rent
the magic number’s 168
hours that pass in a week, that fact ain’t up for debate
so just how do you break up
the precious time that you get
it’s what you don’t do that you tend to regret
(so get it in yo)
It’s been a year and a half since I put shine on a track
I had to WD-40 the spine on my pad
I know it sounds soft admitting to that
even I think that it’s wack
but you can’t imagine the time that I’ve had
I found the love of my life, funny I thought it was rap
but nah, not even close so I put rhyme to the back
focused on matrimonial pacts, I kept up with cats
but then the bookings stopped,
then they stopped hitting me back
and I’m not giving ‘em flack, yo that’s just how the game plays
see a zebra slipping from the pack he just became prey (hmm)
but see that image kind of doesn’t apply
I wasn’t grazing, I was earning the money to fly
and never hungry or dry, never been more hydrated
plus I’m learning how to throw down on a pretty fly banquet
that doesn’t mean I’ve written off a future in rap
but yo really where’s the future in that?
Chorus
​
Third of it sleeping, third of it working
the rest of it is split between eating, burping, jerking
driving, kicking, scratching, sipping, f*&#ing,
and if there’s still time, I’m gettin’ in some dippin’ duckin’
Ration it out according to passion
Lock down what you're worried about losing
as deterrent to snatching
a lot of people live their lives in terms of subtraction
the wish I could of wish I hadn’t then I would’ve had some
just go for it, then suspense isn’t in charge
show a little heart winning isn’t stenciled in the cards
success? dog that shit is intentionally hard
Think that you're different?
your assumptions are definitely flawed
and yo, you don’t have to be MENSA to be smart
but the psyche can get awfully testy when its scarred...
good luck to your getting mentioned on the charts
cuz music as a concept is exceptionally broad
​
Chorus
...and the beat goes...
On and on and on and on and on
watts and visto is on and going strong
on and on and on and on and on....
(oh, wait what? That shit’s been done already?)
​
On a lawn at dawn with a yawning dog
Cop some grits cold and put some fucking coffee on
Sorry, I'm not a morning person but performing verses
pays no money so I gotta go to work
It's funny how you sort of know the key to it
Know how much of your life's at stake
How if you really hustle really hard you might just break
And If you riding a niche don't try and get rich
Want platinum chains go be Viacom's bitch
Hey
The bigger the risk the bigger the perks
And congratulations to those who don't consider it work (jerk)
but most of you listening don’t move a muscle
its easiest to blame the hustler for the hustle
and many will still still trust you if you spitting it with gusto
Cop a beat from Visto then go hop up on the bus yo
I'm in a rush though
so lets abbreviate the sentences
brb i’m LOLing colon dash parenthesis
4. Do That (2019)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield
​
Chorus:
I’m gonna do that tomorrow
I’ll get into that tomorrow
It’s gonna pop off tomorrow
Until there is no tomorrow
(There I was)
Clever mixed kid in the Lou
Studied music so I found crew down to do
Gigs earning beer money playing sax in bars
Stepped out of the jazz idiom to pack the charge
Spit flows using Watts as the moniker
Build up the energy to pop the thermometer
Started a band sac lunch was lit
Put out the LP, packed up and split...
a good run hey it comes and goes
checked off a lotta goals rocked a bunch of shows
A year later moved back to the ILL
A ghost in my own home town that’s the deal
So I went to open mics to build
Ran into the cat Visto and that was chill
He peeped game and said yo lets create
And without hesitation I’m like set the date
Yeaahhh
​
Chorus
​
(Here I am)
Seven years ago I jotted a track
said I hadn’t wrote rap in a year and a half
Now I go over the math, that’s when the tears’ll flow
Bro, native stranger dropped ten years ago
I’m sorry for the delay
Been like five years thinking that I’d do it today
Then it got to today, and man what do you say
I found a dozen other things I had that got in the way
Here and there I did an odd collab
H70s and Chi-Native was the fam
Got a house, back yard and the dog to match
Met my life-long partner but I lost my dad
But ten years is a lot to pass
And the worlds weight suffocates in dribs and drabs
So now I'm back even tho you don’t know me
Just you wait, I’m gonna get to that homie
(Chill)
​
I’ll get into that tomorrow
We gonna do this tomorrow
It’s gonna pop off tomorrow
Until there is no tomorrow
5. All Over (2020)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield
​
Slow going when you do it all over again
Do you think you’d ever do it all over again
Make the same life decisions all over again?
Chase your dreams to fruition all over again?
Hit your goals reach potential all over again?
Then slow down on instrumentals and get swoll with the pen
Words that yield influence, so you know that I can
Lead a crowd to head nod all over again
Catch a few honeys dippin’ all over ya man
Get a couple cats wanting to spit over the jam
Scavengers with attitudes but they don’t know who they playn’
Gonna have to hit the homie Joe J with the grand
Ha, he might even be ok with a gram
I barely met the dude but yo he’s got the soul in the plan
taken it back to eras that they sold they soul for a chance
To get on stage and lean into the mic holdin the stand
Then go in the stance, don’t even post to the gram
Set a strategy for content on social again
Boy a lot has changed since I was leading the band
Shit I guess I gotta do this all over again
Slow going when you do it all over again
Do you think you’d ever do it all over again
Make the same life decisions all over again?
Chase your dreams to fruition all over again?
Hit your goals reach potential all over again?
Then slow down on instrumentals and get swoll with the pen
Words that yield influence, so you know that I can
Lead a crowd to head nod all over again
Let’s take a second to give thanks to the beat
It soothes the savagest of beasts, a dazzling feat
There’s not a man alive that doesn’t know to step to a drum
Except a person that just let all of their perceptions be numb
its branded as uncivilized to ride rhythms
if our differences collide we’re prolly more alike within
But if we say it’s rude to discuss it
I’m sure
We’re probably not gonna be f@&*ng with each other no more
I am a personable dude at my best
But I can be stand-offish when I’m feeling distressed
And I hesitate admitting when I’m feeling depressed
I just go into autopilot like I’m hitting presets
I like to shoot three fingers like I’m hitting reset
But soon the scale teeter-totters like I’m in a recess
Intended to refresh, it always left me Steady blurred
So enamored with the process I hung onto every word
But it’s the truest lesson that I never learn
Watts control the panic hiding around nearly every turn
Relax, I need to get control of my plans
Think I might have to do this all over again
Slow going when you do it all over again
Do you think you’d ever do it all over again
Make the same life decisions all over again?
Chase your dreams to fruition all over again?
Hit your goals reach potential all over again?
Then slow down on instrumentals and get swoll with the pen
Words that yield influence, so you know that I can
Lead a crowd to head nod all over again
6. Ain't Playin' Cousin (2013)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield
​
Throw up ya palms and wave ya hands
I'm sweatin' hard give a bruther a fan
It's Wattson and you lovin' the man
For those supportin' give each other a hand
Speech is about the only hammer I cock back
Flows spanning the globe, though my stamina's not taxed
I’ve got to hand it to the Band-in-a-Box cats
No focusing, still gripping Grammys for wack pop
Throwing wild styles, I’m painting the backstop
cops will never catch me with cash crops, so ask not
what you as one man can do to hit jackpots
just put raps on the track and watch the wax drop
I’m broke, of course I’m dreaming of fat knots
Find someone who isn’t sick of being a have-not
That cat is probably a pain in the ascot
I’m steaming like it’s raining on black top
The situation is mad hot, most of society’s bubbling
Giving up all their freedom to government
Some of ‘em loving it while mostly I just think that it’s troubling
Gotta squeeze into the mold even if I gotta suck it in
How are you sir, can you spare me a buck or ten?
I try to explain to him that everybody's luck is thin
And if you don’t know me don’t ask me how the f#*& I’ve been
He tried to swing on me, I found a left up his chin
and it's too bad, cuz like I said I was of his kin
I'm not even trying to fight, but I love to win
Normally I don't promote that kind of conduct
I want to end the tension with relentless sentence construct
But see if you don't get a reaction to a strong "What?"
Chorus
Compress, EQ and level the vocal
make sure that the presence is focal but controlled pull...
out all the bass until the timbre is soulful
Now arm the track, stand back fill up your throat full
(sharp inhale)
We'll catch that breath cool?
Next the punch in
I'm clocking in and I got four bars to lunge in
My friends told me don't rap about secret dungeons
maybe I'll spit a party track to please the pundits
or go to dark labs tucked in on Baker Street
Where villains play for keeps
but one knows where the fakers creep
Verses hypnotic don't know whether you're wake or sleep
Next thing your neck a little sore and ya pulse is peaked
Difficult to speak, drink the elixir
or spark a Philly like a seventy sixer
Or bring the bottle and go jettin' for mixers
or flash canons, whatever, you gettin' the picture
Mister mister, professin' the scriptures
I'm blessing ya efforts but keep progressin' the big words
I give a f$^) if I get pegged as a big nerd
cuz you start your day eating eggs singing with big bird
Peace to those who runnin' it like it's chasin' em
and peace to all the middle men keepin' our faces grim
I'm doing everything it takes to speed the pace to win
Keep hastening, cheetah blood caked to my skin
7. Tip Toe (2010)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield
​
Now in the mail I got a blood stained note
in a blood stained envelope that read, and I quote:
"These stains are drippings from the head of the artist
cashed his check then he didn't show up with the hardest
Thing is, I killed him weeks ago and no interest sparked and...
you have to see what I did to his apartment"
The note was unsigned
but it did have a return address
on Lawncrest apartment 19
it wasn't long before I got to the spot
snuck up the back staircase the door was unlocked
the only light was coming from the street behind
looked like duct tape stuck on the blinds
then I found the light
Christ!
A scene of demise
a headless body prone swimming in innards and flies
on the walls, in blood, the minutes and files
showed the victim was given a trial
Chorus:
Tip Toe, you don't know what you got yourself
In Foe, got to get to steppin' dog just
tip toe, get up out that danger player
get low, you need to save yourself
I dipped out quick and didn't leave a whisker
but not before coppin' multiple pictures
spent ten days and only started the narrative
brought in a translator, some parts in Arabic
what I've deciphered from the writings is horrible
the verdict ruled the victim's actions deplorable
all of his rights to humanity were disavowed
before execution he was to be disemboweled
The witness called was also the judge and jury
and when his ink ran low he stabbed the gut in fury
but then resumed the cross examination
motioning the victim was risking exsanguination
And at the end of the wall I was distressed to see
there was a short rhyme directly addressed to me
"I wonder if Watts really shines in the dark
OR what he'd find at twenty after nine in the park"
Chorus
​
Quarter to nine, wish I was sportin' a nine
every second begging anything to shorten the time
mind raced, I'm hoping there's an easy way to settle this
because when I'm threatened I'm not easily meddled with
hopped the fence to get in, the park was closed
the only light shone from the gazebo
Walked over to it but my knee froze
a tranquilizer dart spreading through my arteries,
oh....
I heard a voice before my faculties closed
he said
'my dear wattson you must please know
you're not a victim and not subject to torture
but all in pursuit of law are subject to order'
I came to with a smack from a detective
and i was cuffed sitting up my palms pressed in
"We know EXACTLY what you did on lawncrest kid
ooh and lookie here, the bloody letter, a confession!"
Chorus
8. Second to None (2008)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield
​
Chorus x2:
Second to none? Nah this was meant to be fun
I’m just trying to get them heads nodding in the front
Enough with the jogging, you can’t expect me to run
And it moves me to awe seeing what I’ve yet to become
My degree took me sixteen years but I achieved it
Got it home the shit was in Latin I couldn’t read it
Couldn’t believe it, Jesus!
If I can’t acknowledge I’m qualified with it why should I need it?
Then I got heated, started sparking cheeba
Kept my smoking components chilling in the freezer
Hoping to find enlightenment between the fevers
And needing breathers, oh man what a deceiver
Wasn’t gunning for emphysema, but I concede the
sounds of my wheezing diminished what I achieved, so
I had to give the cigs and weed the heave ho
That shit's much more difficult than it seems though
And I'm not givin' up because of these poems
I mostly gotta quit because I need dough
But when your habit gets too bad to rap
Yo, It’s time to say that is that
Chorus x 2
I’ll ride the bench til
I can explore my full potential
My pen spills proportions of intense skill
I bend wills, I can brag, I been chill
You can’t be too humble with it or else you’ll get nil
My style is mostly Quixote charging windmills
Or in the ocean dodging octopus tendrils
And if you don’t think this shit is crazy the hood might
But that’s ok because I can’t comment on hood life
And I’m not fronting like I fight the good fight
I mostly want to make sure you’re having a good night
What can I say, I’m a nice guy, honestly
But honestly you can’t just abuse the policy
After ten years, I can’t claim I’m a novice, see
But when you start from nothing any progress is promising
An optimistic emcee? Imagine that
You know, you don’t even have to clap
Chorus x 2
Yo you’re as good as you feel and as bad as you look
It’s Just an adage you can add to back of the book,
Ok you’re rapping like a babbling brook, shook
My flow is like Apollo, you get grabbed with the hook
It’s almost sad what it took you had the chance of a life time
Let it slip away and now you’re out of the pipeline
If only all you had to do was write rhymes
Nope, you gotta hustle hard to find some like minds
So what if it’s dope? I appreciate the compliment
But rapping on point isn’t a great accomplishment
You have to polish it and get the crowd to follow it
Cats are just expecting to blow, and that’s astonishing
I acknowledge and respect those that did it
Without the ridiculous gimmicky hoes and bitches
A humble emcee? ha, imagine that
you know, you still don't even have to clap....
​
Chorus x4
9. Proven Ground (2018)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield
Sometimes it’s hard to be articulate
Particularly with certain constituents
Code switching as a method of subsistence its
Just trying to find the right clique to fit in with
All my fam is tight knit like a sweater gets
Unlikely to fight with me I’ve got etiquette
Most rappers bend a sentence no predicate
Or else they’re grunting fronting like they’re threatening
Split domes spit a tone that is deafening
Introduce the effigies to an accelerant
Tidal seas wash over this idolatry
And the bummer is I’ll never see the final scene
I only hope that I can find a secluded place
So I don’t have to sack up and show you this face
empathy distorts as much as illuminates
make you cynical about faith in the human race
But let me just sit and reflect in my creative space
10. Oregano (2018)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield
I admit I want you to have to rewind this
I know it’s not for everyone that’s why its my niche
I speak on levels sometimes hard to define It’s
why I do my best not to evangelize or dry snitch
My momma taught me to kill ‘em with kindness
It’s why I raise points, like I’m writing to blind kids
I don’t blaze joints, I’m good with a light hit
Its like a brain ointment, settles the fight or flight shit
In some states its medication
Get caught with it in other states its devastation
Especially if you’ve got a speck of melanation
Its either life in chains or you’re treated like a patient
Which one it is, feels like luck of the draw
And I’m mixed so I’m prolly pushing my luck it gets solved
So I'll just have to sneak around to my hookup in the cut
And risk it all to quell anxiety buildup in my gut
It helps though, gets me mellow for that I respect
Got my courage up enough to put together a set
Fight through brain blocks, and strained thoughts and get in my reps
Start it up and get the crowd synced, moving in step
Even if I’m in control of my breath
mess up one syllable and I get wholly upset
And I go in on my subconscious for withholding my best
Instead I’m holding in stress until it go to my chest
Heart skip alarm ticking now I’m feeling the press
My blood getting hyper tense, mood getting depressed
And so I hop on mikes in hopes that I can reset
You could say I vent my feelings slightly under duress
When emotions flow you’re sposed to handle it and be tough
I know life's rough but I’ve never seen no cannibal pups
I have seen court cases if you sample their stuff
With no proper lease, I won’t stop until I’ve got properties
Watts’ll drop to knees, when I’m overwhelmed enough
Rocking inside out, and I don’t have Joy at the helm enough
Working on it though, set up all the dominos
You’ll know when I’m bout to tip ‘em when I yell Geronimo
Not dominos yo like what what they top with Prego no
Hit phenomenal doj, you’d swear it was oregano
11. The Moment (feat. Tef Poe) (2004)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield, Tef Poe
I gotta be honest
I'm rapping cuz I seek homage
I wanna be the nominee for every seat in Congress
I'd bring peace, never have to speak in bomb threats
and no Cheney I'm not in it with no Romanians
They so shady man they weave and duck
Wrap 'em up from waist down til they feet is stuck
you in another place clown
we buttering face down
won't stop til you uttering faint sounds
this cat be gasping I steamroll past men
Squashing emcees til they fiend for aspirin
My bad for turning your man to a pancake
I tried to stop, but couldn't operate the handbrake
Step hard, straight watching the land shake
But I never rock more than over tracks my band makes
(SAC LUNCH)
Anticipating the flows I can't wait to get noticed until the point
I can compose to my fanbase
In the meantime I'm spitting mean rhymes
Drop three tracks and then ghost it like green slime
Cuz I'm supposed to be a talented cat
But convincing the world is a delicate balancing act
so I keep a low profile, focus and don't go wild
spit unique though I borrow from most styles
and I could suck up
But I won't play the part
of a slave to start mess with reps from A&R
Don't stray too far
these bullets come faster than
nickel-dimes when rhymes are finished and the master's canned
Sorry mom, I'm not just rapping to spite you
And dad you must know I'm making records with white dudes
Sometimes I'm quite rude, but try to be kind
Fiending to rip cats when I'm too polite in my rhymes
Stepping to mics, knowing that I'm too tight to be signed
But I'll still go out and catch the rec that's rightfully mine
Watts
​
Tef Poe:
This is the moment of desperation
and i'm running out of patience
I feel it in the air I can taste it
You better give me my shine or I'm a take it
You better give me what's mine or I'm a take it
Wattson:
We tracing outlines in chalk of nations who say shit
dying over communications (The HATING)
We here to hit the ground racing
splitting up foundations
​
Chorus:
Tef Poe:
This is the moment of desperation
I can feel it in my bones
I'm on threshold of greatness
I can feel it.
My time is now...
​
The top nominee for pushing freedom of speech
I cook reality up, and feed it to a beat
they counted us out now
I ricochet off the wall and bounce back
slap n8%(as with mousepads
My moneymaking dream most motivation for my team
fight the power like Radio Raheem
N#*#as is mad broke
That ain't the half though
You won't ever return, like Michael Jordan's afro
Tef Poe, told ya'll n$#*@s I'm too strong
Carry the clout to clear areas out like Tombstone
Thus far, I bust bars to send a ni$#a back to the future plus four
My homeboy steady
Ride with the dead beside us ay
I'm working with the future like the day care provider
make life hard I'm turning the cable off
if we can't eat I'm burning the table cloth
I'm Donald Trump with a pump to get rich quicker
I'm cordial with more wack n#$*as than Big Tigger
Yeah...
​
Chorus
​
12. Headrushin' (feat Sac Lunch) (2001)
Lyrics by: J. Rayfield
​
We cutting in front of cats like lines at barber shops
My crew's running in packs with lines that's hard to stop
Word? I flip the topic proper
Watts spit hertz and volts in kilos quite a disturbing dose
Burning herbs and choking liquor mixed with Ritalin
Keep my nerves disposed so you can't get on 'em
(where you going?)
My balls are free! you gonna need a law degree to serve this
but I'm a ace ya, spit in your thermos
For a taste of serious flavor
I'm blowing up your spot like you was Syria's neighbor
I'm clearly a savior, you're clearance. A savings.
I'm saying my graces, all you'll hear is amazing
Trace faces in profile looking for ghost style
Before I'm through spitting I'll 'brew b#@)$es" to quote Miles...
I'm too vicious giving lyrics that's nutritious
so chew to the beat, cuz we some sweet musicians
This noose itches, but I'm paying for putting ninety-two
stitches to posers acting like Fu Schnickens
rose to captain while dudes stayed enlisted to ill shit
Men in Black erase your tie to hip-hop like you was Will Smith
Kill swift I'm harder than marble to deal with
I'm bringing startling honor to real slick cats
dropping sick tracks
trying to barter for six packs
when your flows fit better than adding tarter to fish snacks
Sucka get back, ya shits wack
but I dismiss natural tendencies to dispatch
The unfit, carrying gun clips, claiming they run shit
No acclaim, but it's so insane how I claim 'em in one hit
Aim at the lungs, CLICK
Another pundit plundered for a blunt and an exhibit of thunder
I'm digging from under, and I'm beginning to spy
Cracks filling the darkness with unlimited sky
​
Chorus x2:
My flow's the shit but don't think I'm conceited
Or that I, chose to spit the illest rhymes for no reason
So um, So don't just trip cuz you've been trying to believe in 'em
Cuz uh, my prose is gifted even blind people seein' 'em
​
Blast off!
I'm coming to trash talk
Suckas keeping their gums running like fast clocks
with no attached thoughts
I'm bumming all of their cash crops
Spark it rubbing their domes across the front of a matchbox
Ya'll coming half cocked
I'm a stunning component of slap shots from Roenick
when he roamed with the Blackhawks
You need to back off, before you get wrapped up in sack cloth
soaked in gas, matched and dropped off an overpass
Aww... now that's raw
But I'm eating these snakes and ape brains like I was Kate Capshaw
Then I cut the attack off Cuz this crack in your glass jaw
needs some epoxy before it shatter in half dawg
get madder when facts chalk your stats up
and you ain't worth more than a quarter WITH ya autograph
What? I'm not laughing cuz you wack, BUT
I'm still trashing ya act, PLUS
I'm macking on ya fat, slut
and then I get tracks cut for shorting me half beats and clicks
when my heat gets flipped
brother's beef gets chipped
strip flows like hedonists
I'm a plead the fifth
cuz I can't speak of all my dirty deeds to scripts
I'll atone for the squeamish kids til my ribosomes
collab and attacking my ribs like a xylophone
Screaming, but you died alone
no one could hear your cries could be relied upon
so your demise wasn't widely known
Tie my foes they don't get slack
they get smacked with fist packs til they flat backed to the gym mat
jab you in ya chin strap the whiplash will make ya limb snap
I'm sealing your fate but I'm feeling your pain like an empath
Chill in the lane like an impasse
lather your brain for a sick bath of mixtures of liquid soap
and the shit that's dope,
I give cats hope, dropping laxatives
b#$*(es adopting my flows faster than (Mike) Jackson's kids
​
Chorus